


Very Mild Superpowers

by Duckgomery



Category: Brave (2012), How to Train Your Dragon (2010), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010), others to be added - Fandom
Genre: Good vs Evil, Other, Superhero!AU, Supers, and all the grey areas inbetween, more to be added - Freeform, some powers are too ridiculous to resist, super powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckgomery/pseuds/Duckgomery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though the times have changed, the battle between good and evil still prevails. Luckily, it's not all black and white. And as long as there are shades of grey, there is money to be made. <br/>The tale of a cocky young super-for-hire, and his super (ordinary?) best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, been awhile since I've put anything up, but here's to hoping I stay in the swing of things. Reason behind this fic is my love for anything super power related, and my hate for plot bunnies that won't let me be.  
> Hopefully I can keep this going.  
> Enjoy :)

_‘Dad, why is it snowing?’_

_‘Because it’s winter, Hiccup.’_

_‘But it’s only August.’_

_‘Then it mustn’t be snowing.’_

_‘The dragons say it’s going to get worse, that there will be a blizzard tonight.’_

_‘There’s no such things as dragons, now finish your homework.’_

_‘But I’ve already done that.’_

_‘That was quick, I thought you’d have more at your age.’_

_‘Even Snotlout could finish this stuff, Dad, it’s that easy.’_

_‘Don’t talk about your cousin that way, why don’t you play outside then?’_

_‘Can Toothless come?’_

_‘I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Hiccup. Toothless isn’t real. Go outside and please, promise me you’ll stay out of trouble.’_

_‘Okay, Dad.’_

_‘Good, be home before its dark. I’ll see you then.’_

_‘Bye, Dad.’_

_The dial tone sounds before Hiccup finishes, letting the small brunette’s shoulders slump. This wasn’t new. Momentarily losing his balance, Hiccup forces a smile onto his face as he retrieves his coat from the hook by the front door. He hated how much he had to stretch, even standing on his tiptoes, to reach it. When he’d complained, his father had only laughed, saying that one day he’d be taller and it wouldn’t bother him anymore. Hiccup doubted he’d ever be tall enough to reach what his father deemed to be within easy reach. One look and anyone could see that Hiccup wasn’t Stoic’s son. Not in image, anyway._

_‘Come on, Toothless. May as well see what all this snow’s about.’_

_Once more the small boy has to steady himself, almost as if he’s been knocked by some invisible force. Tugging the heavy knit beanie reserved for only the coldest days of winter, Hiccup heaves the front door open, jumping down the porch steps. As he reaches the bottom, the front door closes itself, Hiccup leading the way. Two sets of footprints lead into the forest, two small feet, and four clawed. What better place to play with your imaginary friend than the forest that all the other kids were too ‘cool’ to play in._


	2. Touchdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always nice to have somewhere to come back to aka Hiccup's a housewife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to split the first chapter up between prologue and actual chapter. Going to try for fortnightly updates with this. Weekly would be ideal, but seeing as I have a few things I'm juggling with, might as well take baby steps.

_Years later, but not many_

                ‘Yo, Hic. Earth to Hic. Can you read me?’

                ‘Jack? When did you get here?’ Hiccup snaps up, pencil still in hand from the plans and illustrations he was working on, pivoting in his chair to look at the other teen, and long-time friend, pacing through Hiccup’s study.

                ‘Wow, feeling the love. Finished the job early, so I thought I’d swing by, see how my favourite person was doing,’ Jack smiles, finally taking a seat on the work bench opposite Hiccup’s desk. Lucky for Jack, it was one of the few clear spaces the bench had left. The last time, when Jack had sat without looking, it had lead to a few stitches, and the silent treatment for a whole week. Some of Hiccup’s gadgets were rather delicate, especially their insides.

                ‘I thought you said it’d take a month at least to retrieve it because of the security measures? It’s been a fortnight.’

                ‘Well, I guess we both underestimated how great I am at this. And seeing as I got the goods well ahead of time, I got paid handsomely.’ Jack’s grin is audible and small, and cool air currents begin to kick up as he swings his bare feet back and forth.

                Hiccup opens the second draw from the top of his desk and starts pulling out various paper-weights, using them to anchor the designs and notes down.

                ‘I feel I should be chastising you for your career path, stealing’s bad, Jack, you know the speech.’

                ‘But that’s the great thing, Hic. Neutral Party. And as such, I go where I get paid and no-one expects any loyalty from me, as long as I get the job done. It’s win-win. Plus, if anyone should be having a problem with it, it would be your old man, the guy’s ex-super after all. I’d think it would be him lecturing me about my ‘grey area’ activities, as you like to call them, but no. I don’t get a lecture about right and wrong from one of the good guys, I get lectured by a nerd.’

                ‘A nerd who keeps you equipped, repairs your stuff, holds and traces your calls, and puts you up.’

                ‘And who ever said being a nerd was a bad thing?’

                ‘Nice save, Jack. Dad said something about wanting stew for dinner, and he’d probably be glad to hear tale from the front-lines, I think he misses the glory days.’

                ‘He can’t be short on action, didn’t I hear something about an automatic car that someone thought would be a good idea to merge an AI programme with, leading the machine to become sentient and run riot?’ Hiccup hated Jack’s little birdies, and how he could never figure out who they were. Knowing Jack, though, he’d probably heard it on the wind.

                ‘How ‘bout I get started on dinner, and you shower, because by the smell of it, you haven’t had one in a while.’

                ‘Hic, you’re a legend, have I ever told you that?’

                ‘Not enough for my liking. Remember, your suit isn’t machine washable, so leave it in the laundry and you can soak it later.’

                ‘Oh my god, can’t wait to peel this thing off, it’s so clingy.’

                Jack trails Hiccup until they reach to spare room. Though it’s still called the spare room, it went unsaid that it was Jack’s. The two remaining Haddock’s insisted that Jack have it, even if it was just a place to touch down from time to time. With Jack’s trade, and whimsical personality, he was never one to stay in one place for too long, but even he would admit that it was nice knowing that there was somewhere, even just one place, that you were always welcome at.

                Hearing the shower starting up on the second floor, Hiccup returns his attention to the fridge’s contents, trying to figure out the amount of ingredients that would be needed. Taking into account that both Jack and his Dad ate like they were starving, Hiccup made the decision to just use everything left. He’d have to go food shopping tomorrow anyway if Jack was staying for a bit. Despite how thin he was, he could put some of his Dad’s friends to shame. Speaking of which.

                ‘Hey, Dad.’

                ‘Hiccup? Why did you ring? Is everything alright?’

                ‘Everything’s fine, Dad. Just thought I’d give you a heads up that Jack came back early.’

                ‘That explains the chill. Anything else?’

                ‘Well, started cooking and was wondering if we’d be expecting company.’

                ‘I don’t think so? Will just be you boys and me.’

                ‘Are you sure?’

                ‘Yes. Is there a reason you’re making me feel like I’m forgetting something.’

                ‘Is there, Dad?’

                ‘What’s the date, Hiccup.’

                ‘The twelfth.’

                ‘Well if that’s the case, then Nick and Fergus will be joining us.’

                ‘And I’ll be needing you to pick up some extra ingredients when you leave the front, which should be about now.’

                ‘Thank you, Hiccup. I’ll let Gobber know he’ll be manning the fort tonight. What will you be needing?’

                As Hiccup lists the ingredients, he doesn’t realise that the shower has switched off, and that the room has another occupant. That is, until he feels a puff of cold air on the back of his neck.

                ‘Jesus Christ, Jack! Why do you keep doing that?’

                ‘I’ll stop doing it when you stop jumping.’

                ‘You’re impossible. Yeah, Dad, you still with me? Yep, gotcha, see you in a bit.’

                Hiccup places the receiver back on its wall mount, then turns to glare at Jack.

                ‘One of these days, I’m going to get back at you, one of these days.’

                ‘Yeah, yeah, old news, Hic. So, when’s the food going to be ready? I’m starving.’ Jack drags the last word out into a whine, and Hiccup’s temper crumbles.

                ‘Well it’s going to be awhile, Dad needs to pick up a few things now that plans have changed, but we can get the ball rolling, so help me with these vegetables. And if you’re hungry, there’s some celery, or carrot. I’m not letting you gorge yourself on junk before dinner, especially since we’ll be having guests.’

                Jack didn’t need no invitation to dive into the fridge, though at the mention of company, manages to pull his head out, his white, normally windswept, hair still plastered down from his recent shower. When it caught the light just right it seemed to glimmer.

                ‘Who’s coming?’ he asks, his mouth full of the allowed vegetables.

                ‘Only the Bear and Bandit Kings.’

                Jack’s mood only seemed to pick up at the announcement. Hopefully Hiccup could manage to keep him more or less under control.

                ‘It worries me that you seem to enjoy hanging out with the veterans.’ Hiccup starts peeling the potatoes while Jack makes himself comfortable, perched on the edge of the sink, gnawing on some more celery.

                ‘But they’re so cool, not to mention they tell the best stories,’ Jack says, voice muffled by the food still in his mouth.

                ‘Chew and swallow before you speak, Jack, geez. Were you raised in a barn?’

                ‘Nope, but as an emancipated minor I can get away with bad table manners, one of the perks of being me.’

                ‘Well next time you swing on your chair, don’t blame me when you fall over for no apparent reason.’

                ‘Hic, really? You’re threatening me with a fall? It’s me, I don’t fall.’

                ‘You fall with style; you don’t have to go on that tirade again.’

                ‘Awwww, you steal all my fun.’

                ‘And you steal my patience and sanity.’

                The two boys fall into a comfortable silence, one cutting the mound of vegetables into manageable chucks while the other stealthily snatches some away and devours them.

                ‘How are you boys doing?’ Stoic hunches down to squeeze through the doorframe, dropping what seems to be a whole cow worth of beef on the counter. Hiccup raises an eyebrow at the more than necessary amount of meat. ‘What? It never hurts to have extra.’

                ‘And this is why you have to suck it in to get through doorways.’

                ‘Nah, he has to squeeze through doors because the doors can’t handle all that Viking. Hi, Mr Haddock, doing good. What’s the latest?’ Stoic chuckles at Jack’s enthusiasm.

                ‘Why don’t we wait for the others before discussing such things?’

                ‘That’s no fun, tell me, tell me, tell me!’

                ‘Patience is a virtue, Jack, now make yourself useful and help me with this. I can’t fit it all in the freezer.’ Hiccup calls, having carved a hunk of the carcass off, looking to Jack expectantly. Jack slides down and other, takes a deep breath while placing his hands on the remaining meat, and breathes out. In a flash, it’s completely frozen.

                ‘Heads up, buy an industrial freezer because this is demeaning for one with talents such as mine.’

                ‘It’s called room and board; I thought we’d been over this.’

                Stoic stands back and watches the two playfully bicker amongst themselves. It was nice seeing Hiccup happy like this, he always seemed so much more alive when Jack was bothering him. In fact, Jack had really helped his boy come out of his shell.

                The doorbell rings but it goes unheard to the boys. Stoic doesn’t bother announcing his brief departure as he lets his old friend in, happy to see that he’s not the only one who has to squeeze through the door.

                ‘Nick, it’s been awhile.’

                ‘Same for you, Stoic.’ The two large men take seats across from one another at the large, round dining table. ‘Unfortunately Fergus won’t be joining us. Apparently he’d agreed to take Eleanor and the kids on holiday, and he kind of forgot.’

                ‘I don’t envy him, that woman is scary.’ They laugh loud enough to attract Jack’s attention.

                ‘So Grizzly won’t be here? And he promised to show me how he lost his foot.’

                ‘Jack, my boy, how you have grown. Nice to see you’ve healed up nicely. Sight alright?’ North pulls himself up to bring the boy into a hug. It only serves to dwarf Jack in comparison.

                ‘Could be better, but Hiccup has me hooked up so it isn’t too bad out in the field, and my hearing’s cleared up fine. Though I don’t understand what he puts in those things, because I’m stuck with a rainbow of freckles, which makes it hard to be inconspicuous in a crowd.’ Jack brings up a hand to rub at the small, slow healing burns scattered across his face. Having been brought up, the colours dotting his face seem more apparent.

                ‘Don’t fret, I’ve had words with Bunnymund about that, and I’ll see what I can get out of him about that pigment and how to remove it. The rest of my team weren’t happy to hear about his rash actions.’

                ‘Don’t worry, I’m a big boy, I can teach him a lesson by myself.’ The smirk on Jack’s face is all the proof the two older men need to know that there was already a plan in motion. When Stoic had a moment alone with Hiccup, he was going to make his son tell him the details. Knowing Jack, there were layers, and more likely than not it was to be inspiring. It was a good thing for everyone that Jack hadn’t taken a stance and remained in the grey area. That boy was a force to be reckoned with when he put his mind to it.

                ‘Well, big boy, can you help me with this? I’m only one man,’ Hiccup shouts out from the kitchen. Jack pivots and slips away with all the energy of a dog about to be fed.

                ‘It’s good to see him up and about. He seems happier too.’ North muses out loud.

                ‘They both do, don’t they?’ Stoic adds.

                Between the two of them, Hiccup and Jack bring in four bowls of stew and two loaves of bread. Most conversation is accompanied with full mouths and loud laughter. When Jack rocks back on his chair, Hiccup keeps true to his word. There was no style to Jack’s falling this time.


	3. All in a Day's Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jack does some work, Hiccup also does some work, and Jack 'harasses' his client.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ON TIME!!!  
> Fortnightly updates (at the least) are officially a go.  
> This was fun to write (especially certain bits)  
> I hate action scenes, but there is banter. Can't pass up the possibility for banter in a work featuring superheroes and the ilk.  
> Now to sleep.  
> WOOT!!!

 Padding down the dark hallway on the fronts of his bare feet, Jack ponders the next best course of action. According to his client, not to mention his own surveillance, the current owner of his target wasn't home, so he didn't need to worry about rushing. The whole thing was pretty much gift wrapped, and that was what made Jack think. Yes, occasionally he ended up with a real quick, easy job, and that was never something to turn his nose up to. Things never tended to be easy when it came to this client, though.

Still moving, Jack presses one of the buttons on the side of his visor, courtesy of Hiccup, and brings up the blueprints his friend had acquired from one source or another. That was the great thing about being one of the Greys, you scratch their back, and they scratched yours. Only about another twenty steps until he was beneath the point he'd decided on for entry. Location in both the manor, and the maze underneath, made it the least obvious point of action, so more likely than not it would have the weakest security measures. Jack had to admit, some of these sided supers had a real thing for classical interior design. And by including underground and secret passages when drawing up the layout, it spiced things up, and saved Jack from having to crawl around through the ventilation shafts. That wasn't always a fun time.

Coming up to his entrance point, the lack of a ladder up to the trapdoor makes itself apparent. But then again, why bother with a ladder when his entrance was in-fact designed as an exit for when things got hairy. Usually, getting up to the door, only about three or so metres above him would be no problem. But Jack thought that seeing as he's inside, a breeze or a gust of wind would probably not go unnoticed, and would probably attract some unwanted attention. Just because the owner was out didn't mean that his security was. Plan two it was.

Standing in-front of the brickwork wall, Jack digs his glove-covered fingers into the un-even gaps between the brick work. One foot is braced on the wall while the other propels him up. Ice encases the front of the foot that was braced against the wall, securing him into place, and his kick-off foot is soon to follow. Jack pulls the first foot away from the wall, the ice being weakened by his will and slowly beginning to melt now the he was no longer in contact with it, and places it a bit higher. With both feet secured once more, he stretches his hands-up, finding more purchase, and heaves himself up. This process repeats until he is hanging beside the door, one hand iced to the ceiling while he uses the other to cover the small, electronic device which keeps the door latched shut. Probably opens via remote. A proximity sensor would be too cumbersome, considering where it leads, Jack muses before he focuses, shattering the device with a snap of ice and hard plastic. Though the sound was muffled by both his hand, and the layer of re-enforced flooring, Jack takes a moment to make sure he can't hear any footsteps or alarms.

The door has swung inwards, and Jack let his feet go, using the momentum to swing him over and up through the trapdoor. He knows he had to move quickly. Though it seemed a bit paranoid to think that a door used for escaping would be alarmed from the inside, it never hurt to be prepared in this line of work. Paranoia had saved him more times than he had fingers and toes, after all.

Jack runs through the luxurious and quite over the top interior, going over his memorized route in his head. Out of the study, two lefts, then the sitting/trophy room at the end.

In true megalomaniac fashion, the walls were covered in glass cases, full of souvenirs and trophies gathered in battle from bested and fallen villains. Jack didn't bother reading the small, engraved golden plaques dotting the cases. It was just in poor taste, a show of power to the company the owner kept. And though Jack sees plenty of things that would earn him a pretty penny from the right buyer, that's not what he's here for. He has a job to do, and he's a professional.

Spotting the blackened and beat up antique locket in one of the far off corner cases, Jack makes a bee-line, eyes darting over possible entrances and exits. It was quiet enough for Jack to know he hadn't been found yet, but that wasn't any reason to let his guard down. Still, the lack of security so far had surprised him to the point of disappointment. He'd yet to find a camera without a glaring blind-spot, and it was all too easy to spot the pressure sensors, subtlety hidden beneath strategically layered sections of carpet.

That was one of the problems about the 'big league' players. It all went to their egos and suddenly they think that they are too much of a force to be reckoned with for others to want to break into their 'secret' hideouts. Funny how they always seemed to invest in heightened security measures after Jack had done his business. Hell, he'd even been hired to test out, and give advice on improving security and re-enforcing various weak points that a determined intruder could take advantage of. He always made sure to keep at least one possible entrance to himself, just in case.

Deciding whether to be subtle or not for the next step was Jack's current problem, but surveying the case quickly solved that mystery, presenting an even easier option for Jack to take. The glass lid was fixed down with a simple lock. Amateur. Jack reaches into the small holster strapped to his black-clad thigh, and pulls out a modified water pistol, another gift from Hiccup. The casing was re-enforced, meaning it was just as effective to break faces as it was to shoot water, not to mention it had some serious force behind it. Jack points and squirts the water into the lock, freezing it into a make-shift key once it'd penetrated far enough in. Twisting the pistol, the lock clicks open and Jack is free to reach in and snatch up his target.

With the locket stuffed into the small, secured pouch fixed to the back of his belt, a quick snap is all it takes to break the pistol away from the temporary key, and away to the nearest exit he goes.

The window turns out to be alarmed, sirens blaring out as he slides it open, but Jack is well away, wind brushing against his body, by the time anyone reaches the scene.

 

…

 

'Hiccup, table twelve!' Gobber calls from the counter, pushing a tray of drinks over to the talking fish-bone. Hiccup wipes his slightly sweaty hands on his well-worn apron before heaving the tray up and weaving through the tables and patrons.

Once Hiccup was old enough to get into proper trouble, Stoic decided it was better for everyone if he got his son to work for him. Upon his retirement, Stoic, with the help of a few close friends, opened up a bar, The Three Kings. It was neutral ground for both supers and people alike, though it was also the place to go if you wanted outside help, and as such had made it a hot-spot for the Greys. Stoic didn't really mind the less than legal activities that were sometimes discussed within the walls of his business. As long as they paid their tab and abide by his house rules, who was he to judge. And it never hurt to have a safe place for others, especially the younger, newer faces, to turn to when times got tough.

Hiccup didn't mind working there, partly because he needed to earn money to pay off various damages he may or may not have caused, but also because he got to mingle with all sorts of people. No two were alike, and more often than not they had some action packed tale about whatever they did. Not to mention sometimes, if he was lucky and played his cards right, they'd ask him to fix up or put together a gadget or two. Once Jack started singing his praise, more requests kept coming in. Whether his father knew about this or not was nothing that Hiccup bothered worrying about. For someone normal in a time where a lot of people weren't, it was as close to the field as he could get, and it was fulfilling to think he'd help make a difference.

'Snot? You guys are lucky that Gobber forgets he's not supposed to serve to minors.' Hiccup places the tray of drinks down in-front of his cousin and his friends. Silently proud that the tray is still dry. He was getting better at this.

'And it'll keep on being that way if someone doesn't rat, we clear?' Snotlout jabs his finger into Hiccup's chest, nearly throwing the smaller boy off balance. It was as sure a sign as any that the super-strength that Hiccup's father possessed came from their father's side of the family, and though it passed Hiccup by, his cousin never failed to rub it into his face, when and wherever he could.

'Yeah, yeah, I've got it. Just remember that as long as you keep on paying, I keep on getting paid, so cheers for that, Snot.' The three other kids sitting at the table hid their smiles in their own drinks.

Snotlout Jorgenson, Hiccup's cousin on his dad's side, while only being a few months older, was nearly a foot taller and at least twice as wide. As children, Snotlout had always 'playfully' picked on Hiccup, which everyone thought was endearing, and as such did little to nip that behavior in the bud. Hiccup learnt to just keep his mouth shut because the one thing you didn't want to do was make the kid who could tow a bus with ease any more angry with you then he already was. At least he was beginning to tone it down, though that was due to a certain someone's intervention.

'So, is Jack in town? Haven't seen him for awhile now.' And suddenly all attention was on Hiccup. As much as the other kids with parents from the 'glory' days didn't get along with Hiccup, they all adored Jack. But then again, what wasn't there to dislike about a young, successful super who refused to be tied down to any one faction, travelled wherever and when ever he wanted and didn't have to deal with any semblance of parental control. And he was fun. Something that apparently Hiccup wasn't.

'Oh, you know how he is. Had another job come through so he left a few days back.'

'So he was in town? I don't see why he chooses to spend all his off time with you rather than his own kind.'

Hiccup fought to keep his temper under control. If there was one thing that both Hiccup and Jack hated, it was the elitists, supers whose powers were passed down through bloodlines that could be traced quite a far way back.

'What can I say, he was worn out. Spent most the time sleeping.'

'Is he straining himself? How much was he eating? It's probably just his accelerated metabolism kicking in after traveling and using.' Fishlegs pipes up with the enthusiasm only someone borderline obsessed did.

Fishlegs Ingerman was another one of the kids that Hiccup had grown up with. Built like a wall, Fishlegs didn't look like the sort of person that would hole himself up in order to study the finer parts of various super physiology, often gathering information from various sources at the bar, but Jack was probably his favourite. As far as Hiccup was concerned, Jack seemed as interested with the research the large boy came up with as Fishlegs did himself. Hiccup quite enjoyed spending time with Fishlegs these days, he was easy to get along with, and not as foreboding as his build suggested.

'I'll be sure to pass that on. Do you want me to send him your way once he's back?'

'Really? You'd do that?'

'Sure, what's the harm? Though he won't be back for a day or two, he's doing a delivery straight after last I heard.'

'Who to? Does he have work for a hero?'

'Nah, It's gotta be a villain.'

'Well, I didn't ask you. Bet it's Black Forest'

'You're wrong, because he's obviously doing work for M.U.'

'And you're obviously an idiot, 'right.'

'No, you're an idiot, wrong?' As amusing as it was to watch the twins argue, and to see how long it took for Tuffnut to get confused, Hiccup had to gt back to work. With the now empty tray in hand, Hiccup raises a hand in farewell before making his way back to the counter.

Ruff and Tuffnut Thorston weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, and whoever had said that two heads were better than one was severely mistaken. They never bothered Hiccup unless Snotlout put them up to it, and even then it was half halfhearted. The hardest part about dealing with the twins was trying to tell them apart from one another which was easier said than done. Especially when taken into account their slight transformation abilities. Unfortunately for them, the extent was turning into each other.

'Need anything else done before I head out back? Quiet night and all.'

'Astrid's starting soon so I'll be fine, Hiccup. Those dishes don't wash themselves.'

'Aye aye, captain. I know when I'm not wanted for eye-candy purposes.'

'Damn right you do, who would want that when they have all this to ogle.' Gobber gestures to what remains of his body, smiling a big, gap toothed smile when Hiccup can't keep his laughter contained.

Now Gobber, Hiccup adored Gobber. He was like the cool uncle that every kid wanted, and sometimes seemed to be a bit of a better father figure than Stoic ever was to Hiccup. Hiccup knew that Stoic wasn't to blame, he was absent because he was busy protecting innocents and the like, but it was nice to have Gobber there to look out for him and look after him, to show him how to do things, and help him with his homework, especially after his mother.... No-one seemed to know the story behind the peg-leg and Swiss-army-knife arm of Gobber's. Every time the man was asked, he always came up with a different variation of events that lead to the loss. Hiccup always enjoyed those stories.

Within minutes, Hiccup was elbow deep in the sudsy water, casually working his way through the plates, glasses and cutlery. Doing such a mundane and repetitive tasks allowed his thoughts to drift to other topics. What materials would he need if he wanted to bring his blueprints for a thermal nullifying suit to life? Should he recode that program, or just add more to patch up the mistakes and assumptions he'd already done? Was that car with his AI prototype still out in the woods? Some nights he was sure he could here it revving from the trees, but that could always have been the various machinery he had running. Eventually Jack came up in his thoughts, with concerns about the job and his equipment springing to mind, before wondering how Jack's client was. The client in question, was one of the most revered villains from years back, but now a-days Jack swore the man was mostly retired. No-one had heard, even less seen, the former villain in years, so Hiccup just trusted Jack on his word.

Hopefully Jack would be home soon.

The back entrance door banged open, and in strutted Astrid, blonde hair pulled back in a braid that failed to capture the too long fringe that hung across her eyes. She flipped the hair out of her eyes with a puff of irritation, before chucking her bag down and grabbing her apron off the hook.

Astrid Hofferson was complicated, and such was the relationship Hiccup had with her. Sometimes she'd be happy to talk and joke around with him, and other days it was like everything he did was wrong. Hiccup never knew where he stood with that girl, and was beginning to give up hope that he ever would.

'Hey, Astrid. How are things?'

Today didn't seem to be one of her good days. Astrid didn't so much as look at him, let alone return the greeting Hiccup sent in her direction. Hiccup went back to work, a damper on his previously surprisingly upbeat mood.

Just another regular day it was.

 

…

 

'I can't believe how easy that was. Next time, give me a challenge,' Jack whines from his position, sprawled out across a well-worn in couch. He'd changed out of his skin tight black suit, chest-plate, and arm and knee guards. Opting instead to wear an oversized hoody and a pair of trackies he always kept at this client's house. He was here often enough, might as well keep a spare set of clothes for downtime.

'I'll keep that in mind, and what have I told you about feet?' The dark figure moves around the cozy interior of the small, basement flat.

'Keep them off the couch, yeah, yeah.' Jack begrudgingly moves his feet from the leather that's starting to crack, rearranging his body so that he can more or less lay down horizontally while keeping his feet on the ground. He didn't look comfortable in the slightest, but he seemed to be content.

'I'd usually ask whether you wanted a drink about now, but I believe you'll be having your usual?'

'Don't you know it. I'll never turn down to chance to have you brew me coffee. No-one does it quite as good as you.'

'Oh, Jack. You do know how to flatter a man. Two sugars?'

'What can I say, you deserve every praise I sing. And you know that's a yes. How long have we been doing this now?'

'Much too long for my liking. People must think we're acquaintances.'

'Oh the scandal, poor innocent Jack Frost is gallivanting around with the big bad king of nightmares, the devious, conniving, unholy Pitch Black. What must my mother think of me?' Jack tosses his head back, arm draped across his head in mock scandal.

'And there you go with the flattery again, you really should stop. It's quite unbecoming for an un-escorted maiden such as yourself.' Jack can't help but snort, all Pitch does is roll his eyes in amusement, setting down the mug in-front of his guest with a muffled thud, courtesy of the chipped, hand-painted coaster.

'And before I forget, here you go.' Jack pulls himself upright in one swift movement, sliding off the couch to the discarded pile that was his business suit, retrieving the pouch on the back of his belt. He withdraws the locket with care before placing it gently onto the table. Pitch looks at it with sad eyes, obviously the trinket had some sort of sentimental value attached to it, otherwise why bother sending Jack to retrieve it? Jack didn't feel like this was the right time to pry, so he did one of the things he did best.

'You wouldn't believe the lack of security that guy had. I pretty much walked in and out. Didn't get to blast a camera or anything.' That did the job of snapping Pitch out of wherever his thoughts took him.

'Supers these days, they just don't have a head for those sort of things. It's all about a show of power and stroking their own egos. Never a thought spared for worse case scenarios or protecting their assets. Amateurs.'

'From what I heard, you made quite a few shows of power. Is someone a hypocrite?'

'I never claimed to be otherwise, but at least I had security measures in place that took more than a freelance to walk through with nary a care in the world. Sometimes I miss those days, just for the screams and shrieks of surprise.'

'Well it's what you get for retiring, you forfeit the right to enjoy your super creepy taste in music. What I would've given to put your infamous gauntlets to the test. From what I've heard from North, they were genius.'

'Surely those weren't the old fools words? And I've told you a time and time again, I'm not retired, just having a break.' Jack decided to not bring up the fact that the 'mostly-retired' villain hadn't left the walls of his basement flat since Jack offered to pick up groceries for him.

'Nah, but that's what I inferred. For someone who looks like Santa, he has a very diverse range of colourful words. You really left an impression.'

'It's all you really can do in the end, leaving a mark deep enough to stay. Speaking of which, you still haven't managed to get that colour off, have you?'

'Nope, but North promised to ask that goddamn Kangaroo about it. Still working on my reckoning, keen to throw in any two cents?'

'As tempting as that is, I think I'll leave that all up to you. But remember, revenge is a dish best served cold.'

'Oh god, that was terrible, even for you. Speaking of dishes, cool if I stay for a bite before heading back?'

'Pots and kettles, Jack. But who am I to turn away company. Chinese good with you? I can't muster the effort to cook.'

'Do I ever turn down a free meal?'

'Well, I've learnt to try and not make assumptions. Usually as soon as you make them they prove wrong.'

'Sounds a tad hypocritical, what with my drink order earlier.'

'I never said I wasn't one, Jack. Never said I wasn't.' Pitch brings the cooled down mug of coffee up to his lips, the evening passing in similar exchanges.

When Jack eventually falls asleep, feet curled up on the couch to Pitch's slight annoyance, the older man pulls his worn dressing gown tighter around himself as he stands, pulling the blanket draped across the back of his armchair off, and draping it atop the sleeping boy. He shuffles off to his room in the back, making sure the curtains are tightly secured shut, before sliding into bed.

It was nice knowing someone would be there in the morning. Pitch made sure to remember to pay the boy extra, despite the protests that were sure to arise because of it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sitting on a waterpistol for a weapon or tool for a person with freezy powers for years. I couldn't pass up the oppurtunity, I wasn't strong enough.  
> Also, cue the beginning of ridiculous/ borderline useless powers. They will be a heavily reoccuring thing because it makes me laugh. Just think, how much more ridiculous could they possibly get, because I have plans *laughs at notes*  
> I'm sorry, it's so hard not to write Jack and Pitch as snarky sort of friends. Once more, I wasn't strong enough.


End file.
